Harvest Moon: the Tales of Vicki
by Fire Burning
Summary: Follow the chronicles of Vicki, a young farmer who tragically lost her sanity in a fence-related accident. Be warned: you might lose yours too. Based on Harvest Moon: Magical Melody.
1. Terry's Tale

**_A/N://_**

**Hi, everyone! This is a multi-part story based on Harvest Moon: Magical Melody, written per request of my sister, posted here because I have no desire to allow her to hack onto my computer in order to read the stories I write.**

**The following chapters basically are one-shots following a single storyline, one story per character. These chapters aren't written in chronological order, so expect lots of time skips. And just to warn you, we have weird senses of humor, so bear with us if you decide to read. If you do, please let me know what I can improve on by reviewing! Any suggestions for later chapters are welcome.**

**Thanks for reading!**

_Dedicated to the real Vicki, my very_ unique _sister._

_- - - T E R R Y ' S T A L E - - -_

The summer night was quiet, and that suited Terry just fine. For one small moment in time he was able to hear the animals scuffling around, able to do his job as their silent guardian. Not so silent anymore, however, ever since the new farmer had moved into town. Her name was Vicki, and at the age of sixteen she was the youngest farmer to express interest in our village in the longest time. Now nineteen and a young woman, she had kept her familiar style of jeans shorts and a short-sleeved top, though the top was berry-red and she wore that old worn bandana on her head instead. Her brown hair was longer, and she wore it down, no longer in the childlike pigtails. She was a bright, happy girl, kind and caring, one of those few individuals who could coax the animals out of hiding with just her presence, which, unsurprisingly, had put her quite high up in Terry's books.

_Was_ is the key word here.

At the beginning of her stay, Vicki, for some reason unknown to all, insisted that her fence must be composed entirely of rocks. Yes, rocks, nearly boulders. She traipsed up to the mountains every afternoon and came home at night with her arms laden with them. Woody and his apprentices, deeming that an intervention was necessary, tried to convince her that there was no need to build a fence of rocks when perfectly good lumber was stored right at the back of her house. Their words fell on deaf ears; Vicki was sure that a fence of rocks was more reliable than wood, and so she continued her work. It took her weeks to finish. That final day, Vicki set down her last batch of rocks and made a running start to leap over her fence in joy.

She tripped, hitting her head on the great rocks and getting knocked out as a result. Theodore, who managed to come upon the scene in the nick of time, rushed her to the clinic. The Doctor wasn't troubled, and guessed that she'd be up and about the next day, that it was just a nasty knock to the head.

She hasn't been the same since. That "nasty knock to the head" he talked about did a _bit_ more damage than anticipated.

"Uncle Terry! Uncle Terry!" Oh, jeez. Here she comes, and the entire town most likely knows it too. He turned his head to glance over at the late-teenage girl as the bridge over the river creaked quietly under her footfalls, and quickly regretted his acknowledgement of her presence. She was clad in blue pajamas, a button-down long-sleeved top and pants adorned with sheep, and upon her feet were a pair of fluffy pink slippers. It seemed she intended to make this a _long_ visit. "Uncle Terry! Uncle Terry! Uncle―" The elderly man rolled his eyes as Vicki tripped over a weed and fell flat on her face just as she stepped off the bridge, one slipper flying off her foot and landing behind her. Spitting out bits of dust and grass, she leapt back to her feet, still grinning broadly, put her slipper back on, and upon reaching him declared, "Uncle Terry, you're alive!" and flung her arms around the shorter man.

"Was I not supposed to be?" Terry grumbled, pushing away the young woman. "Look, kid, I'm not your uncle. I never _was_ your uncle." Which was definitely true, because Terry was quite sure that he had no nieces named Vicki. Ever since _the accident_, Vicki's memory had been scrambled and she began calling everyone by titles of her own creation, and apparently she believed the implications of the chosen names.

The previous statement was verified as Vicki looked deeply hurt, her brown eyes swimming with sudden tears. "What do you mean, Uncle Terry? Of course you are! Papa said I should visit you, Uncle Terry. Uncle Terry, don't you _want_ to be my uncle? Uncle Terry!"

Terry sighed. He hated crying, always did, especially over something as completely _weird_ as this. "Fine, fine, I'm your uncle, okay? Just don't cry."

The tears vanished. "See, I knew you didn't hate me, Uncle Terry!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Now why are you outside this late? Don't you go to bed at five or something?"

"No, silly, I sleep at _six_! Except tonight I couldn't sleep again. It's weird being all alone in my house, after six months sleeping in Dia's room in hers and Gina's house. So I went to visit Papa, but Papa wasn't happy when I woke him up. He said he was going to fine me for breaking and entering, whatever that is. Then he told me to go visit you because you would be awake watching the fishies!" she declared happily.

"I'll have to thank him for sending you," Terry grumbled unhappily. "So what do you want?"

Vicki grinned widely. "I wanted you to tell me a story, Uncle Terry!"

Terry stared at her for a moment. "…Tell you a story."

"Yup!" Vicki quickly put on her infamous puppy dog expression. "Pease, Uncle Terry? I'll go to bed like a good girl if I get a story!"

Terry was silent for a moment. "Fine…" he sighed at last, evoking a delighted squeal from Vicki. The nineteen year old immediately dropped down and sat at Terry's feet awaiting the promised story.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl named Vicki. Vicki owned a farm. One day, Vicki took her cow—"

"But I don't want to take Mimi anywhere! Mimi is a slowpoke! Make it my sheep, Snow! And use her name, Uncle Terry!"

"Fine, so Vicki owned a farm and one day she took her _sheep called Snow_ out of the barn, and they went for a walk to the river—"

"No! No, Uncle Terry, I only let my aminals walk in their pasture!"

"Okay, so Vicki and Snow went for a walk in the _pasture_ and they saw Jamie's male sheep—"

"He doesn't deserve a sheep. Give him a cow."

"Cows are always female. You mean a steer."

"No, I mean a cow. Make it a boy _cow_."

Vicki failed to notice the look of warning he shot at her, apparently too enraptured by the story—or, rather, _editing_ the story—to notice. "They saw Jamie's _magically male_ _cow _and Snow started talking to the cow and they fell in love—"

"Ewwww!" Vicki's shriek of disgust probably woke the entirety of the village. "A sheep and a cow can't _fall in love_! That's gross! And wrong! And…ewwwww!"

"_They fall in love if I say so_," Terry said firmly and quietly, and even Vicki had the sense not to disagree.

"Yes, Uncle Terry…"

"Okay, so the sheep and the cow fall in love and they have a baby…" Terry glanced at Vicki. "…because a miracle potion magically appeared in front of them and they used it."

"A baby sheep or a baby cow? Make it a baby sheep, because my sheep is better than Moldy's smelly old cow. I don't want a smelly old cow child that's related to that dumb lampshade."

"_Fine_, it was a baby sheep and therefore not like Jamie's cow."

"Make him give his cow to My Sister Ell. I don't want Snow to be in love with a cow that belongs to Ol' Moldy."

"Okay! Jamie gave his cow to Ellen for no reason! So the lamb was born—"

"Oooo! Make everyone fight over it!"

"…And there was a lot of fighting over the lamb. Ellen wanted it because her _magically male_ cow was the sheep's father, Jamie wanted the lamb because—"

"He's a possessive jerk."

"…Sure, okay, and Vicki wanted the lamb because her sheep—"

"_Snow_!"

"…Snow was the mother. So they were all debating over who got the lamb."

"Make me win, Uncle Terry."

"And Vicki won—"

"Because she hit Moldy!" Vicki wore such a look of aggression that even Terry was concerned for the girl's psychological wellbeing.

_Time to wrap this story up_. "…because she hit Jamie…and so Vicki got to keep the lamb and they all lived happily ever after," Terry quickly finished.

"Except for Moldy, that ol' lampshade!"

"Except for Jamie…." Terry restated with a sigh and a shake of his head, "…that old…lampshade. Okay, story's over, time to go."

Vicki whined and complained but finally got to her feet. "Thank you, Uncle Terry," she thanked him in a sing-song voice, once again enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. "I bet I can sleep now. I need to be wide awake tomorrow morning to make sure that Snow isn't getting too friendly with Moldy's cow. Maybe I better talk to Papa tomorrow morning, too…" With that, she raced back home.

Terry shook his head in disbelief and started on his walk home. He was going to need the sleep as well. Somehow he had a feeling that 'Papa' would be up quite early trying to convince Vicki that she didn't need a restraining order against a cow.

Just as expected, at six the next morning he found Theodore standing in front of his home with Vicki clinging delightedly to her supposed father's arm. "This is harassment!" he cried, struggling to get away. "Terry, just what is the meaning of this nonsense she's been telling me?"

"Tell him, Uncle Terry! Tell him about Jamie's stalker cow!"

Terry rolled his eyes in dismay. "It was only a story, Vicki!"

_- - - E N D - - -_

_Look forward to the next chapter of Harvest Moon: the Tales of Vicki...**Alex's Hibernation Troubles!**_


	2. Alex's Hibernation Troubles

**_Again dedicated to my sister, the real Vicki, to whom I have often considered recommending psychological help. =P_**

_- A L E X ' S H I B E R N A T I O N T R O U B L E S -_

Doctor Alex was no psychiatrist, and Vicki's accident had made that fact quite clear. He had no idea where to even begin to help the poor girl with her predicament, and for the first month all that had been done was the scheduling of weekly appointments to oversee the aftereffects. After all, what would he say to the psychologist he referred her to? It would completely shatter the already low renown of the once-deserted town—its inhabitants were left in all states of disarray in the wake of The Accident. So when no progress had been made with Vicki's "condition, hush hush, whisper whisper," the Doctor had been forced to throw in the towel. And so it came to be that a sanatorium was built just beside the clinic. It served two purposes—sheltering a girl of about Vicki's age, who was seeking a haven from her dysfunctional family, and bringing help to the town that Alex alone couldn't provide.

A young nurse named Gina had come to accompany the girl, Dia, and Alex immediately spoke with her about Vicki's ordeal. It was quickly arranged that she would stay in the sanatorium for a while, where someone could always keep a close eye on her, and see if progress was made. Thank goodness that Gina had some sort of degree in psychology, as evidenced by running this sanatorium. However, despite the best efforts between the two, not much had been accomplished during that time, which lasted through the summer and into the fall. Finally they had to admit to themselves that Vicki's concussion had caused some sort of brain damage or lesion, which was irreparable. There was nothing more that could be done to help Vicki aside from forcing her to take medication that unfortunately wasn't available to the village at the time. Vicki was living at home right now, but every two weeks she visited the clinic so Alex could be sure that there were no dramatic changes in her behavior.

Fortunately and unfortunately, there weren't, and that was why Alex was unperturbed when Vicki strolled into the clinic early one winter morning wearing shorts and a tank top underneath a huge parka that nearly swallowed her body. "Good morning, Cousin Al!" she trilled, forgetting to close the door.

Alex shivered as the cold winter air rushed into the room along with a few stray snowflakes. "Good morning, Vicki. If you don't mind, would you please shut the door? It's freezing outside today."

Vicki obliged before helping herself to a seat beside him. "Guess what, Cousin Al!" She didn't wait for the requested guess but instead carried on. "I've learned a new word. It's called neerf. Isn't that a fun word, Cousin Al? Neerf, neerf, neerf."

_Oh, Harvest Goddess. _Another_ new word. _Alex kept his thoughts to himself, careful not to show his exasperation. "Yes, Vicki, it's a great word," he managed to say calmly. "Where did you learn it from?"

"Neerf, neerf, neerf, neerf, neerf!"

"Okay, well, what does your word mean then?"

"Neerf, neerfy! Neeeeeeeeeeeeerf!"

This time Alex could not help but sigh. Clearly he wouldn't be getting anywhere with his questions. Quickly jotting down Vicki's newest addition to her vocabulary into the small book where he had listed her other fifty-something creations, he moved on to ask her about her well-being. Aside from the expected "neerf" thrown into her answers, it was established that Vicki was quite well, though she had gained a concerning amount of weight during the last two weeks. Thankfully, it was nothing that a change to her diet couldn't fix. He was about to send her off on her way when she admitted to him that things were actually not fine.

"Actually, Cousin Al, I have a problem," Vicki confessed, playing with a loose string on one of her sneakers.

"Why didn't you mention it earlier, Vicki?" Alex asked, concerned. What could have happened that he was unaware about?

"Well, I was kinda embarrassed," she said, looking close to tears, though this was expected because Vicki normally cried at the slightest thing gone wrong.

"There's no need to be," Alex assured her kindly, at this point pretty sure where the topic was heading. "What seems to be the problem?"

Vicki was quiet for a moment. Then she wailed loudly, "Cousin Al, it's terrible. I can't hibernate!"

Alex was silent for a moment. Hibernation. Well. Um. Yeah. This was not quite what he had in mind as the issue troubling her. He had thought for a moment that it was a normal problem, but no…of course not. It was a _Vicki Problem_.

"Vicki, uh, well, we're human. Humans don't hibernate," he explained slowly, shaking his head with disbelief before turning away to put away the routine medical equipment he'd used in her examination. He wasn't really sure how to respond and this was the best he could come up with.

"But it's winter!" she protested indignantly. She was well aware that she was being blown off and did not appreciate it in the slightest. "The animals hibernate in winter, Cousin Al! So do the crops and the grass and the weeds!" Her voice grew louder and more insistent as she stated, "My chickens hibernate and my cow hibernates and my sheep both hibernate and so does my horse! They don't even need to eat anymore because they're living off the fat they stored up like Mr. Bear in the mountains!" That meant Vicki was no longer feeding her livestock. Wonderful.

Vicki's voice grew desperate as she explained to him the predicament. "I ate everything in my refrigerator and I tried sleeping for three whole entire days now, but I still won't hibernate!" Well, that would explain the sudden weight gain…. "Please help me, Cousin Al," she begged. "I need to hibernate too, Cousin Al!"

"Well, Vicki, I'm afraid I can't do anything to help you. Humans just don't hibernate," he repeated patiently, sitting down at his desk to fill out paperwork that he would send to the medical institute in the main city, essentially stating, _Vicki is still mentally unstable. We need you to send us help _NOW_!_

"Yes, you can, Cousin Al," Vicki insisted, unusually serious. "You make people go to sleep when they get surgery. I read about it in Gina-Dina and Quiet Girl's house. They get medicine and go right to sleep for hours and hours. Sometimes, you doctor people even give them this stuff that makes them hibernate for a long, long time. Gina-Dina said it was called a…a medicine coma…I think. And I asked her if it was like hibernating and she said yes. So can you give me a medicine coma, Cousin Al?" she asked brightly.

Now, Alex was not a violent person, but at the moment, however much he liked her, he was tempted to strangle Gina for telling Vicki that medically-induced comas were like hibernation. Refraining from acting on this desire, he stated, "Well, Vicki, I'm sorry, but that's just not possible. You don't have any medical need to be put in a coma. Besides that, with your condition—I mean, because of how _young_ you are," Alex amended, seeing the bewildered look on her face upon mention of her condition, "one of your parents would need to sign a paper to let me do that to you. You don't remember who your parents are and where they live so I can't—"

"But Cousin Al," Vicki whined, "that's silly. I remember my parents."

"Do you?" Alex asked skeptically, quite sure of whom Vicki would name.

"Uh-huh. Papa lives in town. You know Papa; he's the mayor. And there's Momma who runs the seeds shop."

"Vicki, Mayor Theodore and Liz have no relation to you whatsoever," Alex stated with forced cheerfulness, sitting at his desk with his head in one hand. Said hand was quite literally the only thing stopping him from slamming his head against the desk. "They can't sign the paper."

"But…but…."

"No, not 'but.' You can't go into a coma just because you want to. Go home and feed your animals, because they're not hibernating." Alex's voice was dripping with exasperation that he didn't even bother trying to hide.

Vicki looked affronted. She visibly struggled for a retort. "Cousin Al, you're such a M-E-A-N-I-E," she spelled out finally. "I didn't want to hibernate anyway, because who would bring Papa those funny-looking roots I dig up in the caves?" she finished thoughtfully, speaking more to herself than to Alex. "And if my aminals aren't hierating, I can play with them again and ride my horsey places! Yeah…no hibernating! Yippee!" And quite as suddenly as she had begun sulking, she straightened up again and beamed brightly. "Am I done, Cousin Al?"

Alex finally let his hand fall to his side and his head fall onto the desk with a thud. "Yes, Vicki. _Please_ go home," he muttered.

"'Kay," Vicki replied, happily unaware of the torture she was putting poor Alex through. "Bye, Cousin Al." She poked him in the side and left through the front door where she had come in. Once again, she left the door open.

Alex was no psychiatrist, and for that he was very, _very_ glad. "I need a vacation from this madness..."

_- E N D -_

_Next up in Vicki's tales of terror is...**Stalking Nina**!_


End file.
